Tales of War
by Love the Brightest Star
Summary: A collection of poems written for Hillstar's Poetry Collection Competition about the Second Wizarding War.
1. Ode to an Elf

**Ode to an Elf**

 **D** own in the Malfoys' kitchens he dwelled

 **O** nce, which was his home and prison,

 **B** rave enough he was, though, to strive for release.

 **B** ound he was to them — a property, a slave,

 **Y** et he defied all to aid the one he loved;

 **T** ime and again, a helping hand.

 **H** e returned to his prison house one last time

 **E** vaded all the dangers, his last masters bested

 **F** or the sake of the chosen one and his friends;

 **R** escued them all at the cost of his life.

 **E** ven as silver gleaned rubies, he whispered _that_ name.

 **E** vening falls now upon his grave by the shore. Look —

 **E** re the hand of time wipes him who rests here —

 **L** oyal to his liberator but bound to none,

 **F** inally freed from the fetters of life.


	2. The Sleeping Village

**A/N: Although not a scene directly from J.K. Rowling's writing, this is my imagination of one of the many attacks on muggles that took place is the Second Wizarding War.**

* * *

 **The Sleeping Village**

Twenty steps from the little waterfall,

A sleepy village lies in slumber.

Walk ahead with me, won't you?

We will go there together.

Two and twenty steps to the east

And sixteen more towards the pole star's wink,

A silent walk. Tension hangs

Stiff in the air.

Slowly, too slowly in the dark,

The tall, tall hedges part —

The first view of our destination.

Here the sky is not the deepest blue,

But ignited with a scarlet hue

And flaming splinters float away in the breeze.

Giant tongues of flame lick at the houses

Gnawing at them with endless hunger,

Nothing is spared.

Looking for a glimpse of hell on earth?

It is here, aye, 'tis this place.

On a broken porch, caked with blood,

A woman laughs. Her cackles mad

And loud and chilling, her eyes wide, insane.

And between those laughs, that echoing noise

She moans and cries, tears rolling,

And calls to you, "My son! Where did they take him?"

We walk ahead; the sight's not nice.

With every step, every footfall,

There is a body to be stumbled upon.

Their expressions terrified, the dead stare at you,

Silently beckoning your companionship.

And the flames, they burn, burn through the night.

Did you see that writhing man,

Whose charred face and ripped limbs

Made you wish that he were dead?

Or that babe, hanging from the roof

White, pale, and so very still...

Perhaps Satan's wrath unfurled,

Or some demon's deadly work?

This is what happened, think you not?

But the green mark on the sky speaks otherwise...

Whose terrible visage — the skull's gape

Whence a snake churns about,

Is the evidence that the culprits left.

And the flames dance their deadly dance,

While far away somewhere,

Hooded figures chuckle at their work.

And farther still, in a quiet hall,

A man with an inhuman face,

And soul inhuman too,

Smiles as he strokes his pet.

The sleepy village lies in slumber —

Eternal sleep.


	3. The Defenders of Hogwarts

_' 'And now — piertotum locomotor!' cried Professor McGonagall._

 _And all along the corridor the statues and suits of armour jumped down from their plinths, and from the echoing crashes from the floors above and below, Harry knew that their fellows throughout the castle had done the same._

 _'Hogwarts is threatened!' shouted Professor McGonagall. 'Man the boundaries, protect us, do your duty to our school!' '_

 _— Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows._

 **The Defenders of Hogwarts**

A swish of the wand, and here they move,

The Defenders of Hogwarts, brave knights all,

Suits of armour, spears in hand,

They march forward at Hogwarts' call.

Statues of all size and shape

Shudder to life and charge to fight,

Every floor is now awake,

They clamour ahead with all their might.

For centuries they had stayed still

And silent in every corridor,

But now that danger knocks without

They rush to guard the castle's door.

Blood splatters on the ancient stones

As duellers fight, pulling out their wand,

They bring out their swords or raise stone fists,

And to the warriors lend a hand.

Destruction, wreckage, tumbles and falls,

Chaos and Ares are rulers tonight,

Man and his creation, now partners in battle,

Take down their enemies in search of the light.

A punch in the face, a death eater falls,

A spear on the side downs another,

And at the same time one statue crumbles,

And somewhere away, its brother.

The night draws on, long, so long

As the battle goes on, no end,

People rush to take care of the dead,

But to the broken armours, none attend.

At last dawn comes with victory's call,

Peace flies in once more,

But Hogwarts weeps as its sons' remains

Lie scattered on the floor.

They couldn't shed blood, but wrecked they are,

Their broken bits kicked away,

Once regal they stood in the castle halls

But they won't see another day.

And yet they'll be remembered, through the ruins,

The hearts of steel and hearts of stone,

Because they too gave up all they had,

And with the combined effort, the battle was won.

-o0o-


	4. Narcissa

**Narcissa**

A probing caress, fingers roving

Finds life's spark in a dead heart.

A moment of shock, fear, indecision,

A whispered query, and an answer breathed back ,

Decides her action, desperation the master.

Black and white mingle in a splash of gray,

And through it, dawn arrives.

-o0o-


	5. Tribute to the Fallen

**And here finally is the last one! This really took a lot of hard work to put together. Hopefully you won't find it monotonous; please bear with me. I hope I haven't missed anyone in here. Hope you like it. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Tribute to the Fallen**

High above the castle walls, Death awaits with wings unfurled.

With the sun's rise, the battle ends, and peace obscures the violence hurled.

And yet the fallen can ne'er be raised, by Death those who've been claimed,

The blood shed can't be wiped again, can't heal those who've been maimed.

Through all these years, slow and steady, whom the war's grasp has snatched,

Those martyrs can never be back, their virtues ever unmatched.

A young man, brave, loyal and fair, who would not break a rule,

Whose body was struck and cast away, as if a broken tool.

A tormented soul, wronged and betrayed, whom Fate appeared to hate,

Whose innocence the world saw, alas, far, far too late.

Ladies brave, fighters true, lost way before their time,

Yet who took down villains more in number than many in their prime.

An ancient soul, wisest of all, who lost much to the 'greater good',

Even before his final fall, tall and powerful who stood.

A teacher who only did her duty, and taught equality for all,

But before the darkness, her fair self became the cause of her downfall.

A feathered friend, companion sweet, one's key to the world of magic,

Who died with a screech, a little loss, and yet so much more tragic.

A grizzled soldier, forever hardy, who fought till his last breath,

In a fatal fall, his 'constant vigilance' was conquered by death.

A minister, seemingly not, yet so different from the rest,

Hateful to first sight, but in his last breath, he acted for the best.

A century old, history her love and her work and passion,

A lady so great did not deserve to die in such a gruesome fashion.

Men who had done no crime than being born where they were born,

In chase and death whose peaceful lives were once and forever torn.

A traitor, a rat, forevermore, who sold the trust of his friends,

In the moment of judgment, a twinge of guilt became the herald of his end.

A little creature with big, bright eyes, more than once a major help,

For whom he loved, he took the knife, and sacrificed himself.

And then the battle opened fire, climaxing in the night,

In a fiery clash all was shattered, dark pitted against light.

A werewolf dear, all through his life, he had borne pain and sorrow,

For the sake of the world, he gave up his life, never again to see the morrow.

And his wife, feisty and brave, who came in the moment of need,

Leaving her child and safety of home, she immortalised her deed.

A young man loved by all who knew him, laughter lit up whose face

Even in his last moment, his loss so sudden, that none could ever brace.

A cameraman not even of age, who wouldn't retreat from war,

In the end, his picture of courage was the only one he didn't capture.

And last, the spy, known by few, and loved almost by none,

Only past death whose greatness was exposed, and the battle was won.

But there were many more — fifty or so, who lay down to rest,

Nameless soldiers in final sleep, their bravery forever blest.

And the innocent non-magical folk, who were the victims all the while,

Ignorant of danger till death came knocking, safety sent to exile.

And last of all, perhaps one should pay a tribute to the dark ones as well,

Though misguided, faithful many were to their own cause till they fell.

And thus ended the war with Death reigning tallest of tall,

And some rose in victory over the rest, but within, each one did fall.

-o0o-


End file.
